Food fads come and go. Some are good -- hello, Cronut! Some are everlasting -- bacon on everything! And some are just WTF -- flavored infused foams? Why, Ferran Adria, why? The latest craze sweeping across the country falls squarely into the last category. Yes, I mean “bone broth.”

Long ago, Todd English, hale and healthy and whole, was a fine chef whose skills grew legendary throughout the nation. But driven by the desire for gold and fame (and unwilling to shoplift for it, like his ex-fiancee once did), he exerted his will to dominate and rule in the culinary world… and in so doing, began sucking.

Since his bio proclaims him “one of the most decorated, respected, and charismatic chefs in the world,” I didn’t expect to see Todd English schvitzing over stewpots at Olives New York, his recently rebooted eatery inside the W Union Square hotel.

But the degree to which Olives feels like a joyless brand extension underscores the perils of slapping star names on products and places. For all the personality and passion here, Todd English might as well be Betty Crocker.

As Kaminer assaulted Olives with phrases like “formulaic and tired,” “T.G.I. Friday’s territory,” and “brown, wet and unpleasant,” he took pause at the main entrees, a food monument to the former glory of English:

But lo, once a hapless footsoldier claimed that the coffee beans were originally from “Arabica,” Kaminer continued attacking Olives relentlessly, looking to the east, as the pale and weary English did, both hoping for a victory in the form of an alliance with Pete Wells the White.